


When the World Spins Down

by Niteshayde (wrenwyn)



Series: The Life and Times of a Super Hero in Post Wall Dublin [4]
Category: Dani O'Malley Series, Fever Series - Karen Marie Moning, Iced
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:30:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1821832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrenwyn/pseuds/Niteshayde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dani O'Malley's having a rough day.  Sometimes, bleeding from your nose -- and eyes -- is worth it, if you get to find out how Tall, Dark and Handsome truly feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When the World Spins Down  1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! My deepest apologies for the delay in getting chapter four up. I have been working on it for all these lowly months... there were six versions, with just as many different memories flooding through. Nothing seemed right. I hope I was able to pave the way for Dani. I love her so much. 
> 
> Thank you for all your kind comments! They mean the world to me. When the ideas are frozen and the words aren't coming your encouragement helps me to get off my duff and keep trying. Please write and let me know what you think of Chapter Four, part one. (Part two is being beta'ed now by the fabulous firesign10 -- please check out her works. She's awesome.)
> 
> As always, I own nothing. Copyrights belong to the tremendously talented Karen Marie Moning. I just like to play dress up with her characters. XO

I plop down on the couch without much enthusiasm. I'm disappointed Ryodan isn't here. What could be more important than blood gushing out of every orifice in my face that would keep him away? I want some answers. I want to not feel so horrid. I want Ryodan.

Lor fast-mo's out of the room and flies back in with a tray full of food. He's gone for a millisecond, like he doesn't want to leave me alone too long. He puts the tray down on the table and points to it; man of few words, if any.

"I'm not hungry," I say, but I pick up a roll and munch it slowly. I'm not entirely sure what I swallow isn't gonna come right back up.

"Not hungry? Who are you and what have you done with Dani?" He teases with a smile and starts the game in single player. Guess he can tell I'm not up for shooting zombies in post-apocalyptic fun. He dies within minutes and grumbles, "I hate this fucking game. Feel like a movie instead?" He grabs a DVD always on standby - "Kill Bill, Volume 1" - and loads it into the player.

Poor Lor. He's probably just as disgruntled being locked up with me as I am to be stuck here. "Sorry, dude,” I say in solidarity, “you're stuck here, too."

"S'ok, kid. I don't mind your company."

"You could be banging some chick..."

"Don't rub it in, brat." He grins. I grin. He hits play.

While we watch the movie, Lor narrates the battles as they happen, instructing me how they should have been fought instead, to kill faster and with more efficiency. I look at him for a beat before I snicker. "It's a movie, Lor," I point out.

"This is a life lesson, kid." He smiles, then grows serious. "Can't you eat anything else?" I'm still working on the same roll, swallowing small bites. I’m choking it down best I can, which ain’t that good.

"You worry like an old woman," I tell him. To appease him, I pick up a peach. Fresh peaches in PWD are rare even for Chester's, so I do my best to savor it. Lor seems satisfied with my food selection and turns his attention back to the gratuitous blood-spray that is a Tarantino movie.

We're about half way through the film when I realize my nose is running. I grab a tissue to wipe it and it comes away bloody. Lor notices at the same time I do and fast-mo's it to the bathroom and back out again with a wet, lavender-scented cloth.

"Here, honey, use this. Boss thought something like this might happen."

"Why am I bleeding again?" I wipe my nose with more force than I need and find it sore, like I caught a cold and been blowing it too much.

"You're strong-willed, kid. Boss thought you might unconsciously fight being taken over by the memories. You dreamt some back last night, right?"

"Yeah, I guess." The memories come rushing to the forefront of my thoughts. My heart picks up speed as they flow freely through my mind; all of them centered on Ryodan. Gah! You'd think he was the pinnacle of my fecking universe. I frown. Oh, hell no! He's never gonna be that for me. No way! I'd rather die than be one of his long trail of women. Then I think back to last night. I wasn't too concerned with being one of the many while I was lying nearly naked in his arms. All I wanted was more of him. I think for a sec. Knowing Ryodan as well as I do, with his amazing powers of observation, and that uncanny way he reads minds? Well, that just sucked. Falling into the masses was never the game plan.

Lor is staring intently at my face. I meet his gaze, looking as miserable as I feel. Don’t much care for feeling like an open book. He smiles at me with warmth, and the corners of my mouth rise slightly in answer. He understands me and knows more than me about everything, including details about Ryodan. But he's about as communicative as a brick wall, so asking him anything about anything is useless; I'm too tired to bash my head against futility.

I continue to wipe my nose as Lor settles back into watching the movie. I wonder at the whole 'keeping myself from succumbing to memories' theory, so I force myself to relax and let go of my thoughts. Forcing yourself to relax sounds kinda like an oxymoron, but trust me, relaxation doesn't always come easily. Sometimes, you've got to force it down your own throat.

It's not many seconds later when I'm no longer snuggled on my couch, comfortable and warm, but floating on a memory and land my ass on a bar stool, sitting next to Jo in a quiet sub-club off the main hub of Chester's. I'm drinking a vodka shot but it's in a low-ball glass, and Jo thinks it's water. Lor set it up for me, nodding his okay to our bartender to let me have some. This is my third. I'm trying not to giggle ‘cause it's starting to hit me; feeling a little light and fuzzy. And warm. Hmm… pleasantly warm. I don't get drunk, 'cause I'm the mega, but I am enjoying getting a wee tipsy. 

Jo and I are huddled close together, whispering about the latest Unseelie we saw a bit ago wandering around the sub-levels of Chester's. Reconnaissance is important since I'm planning to kill it at my earliest opportunity...outside Chester’s, of course. It's nearly time for Ryodan to nod down to Jo, beckoning her up to his office to boink her, and I see her glancing up repeatedly to his spot at the top of the stairs. I've never been able to stand the thought of them together, so I do my best to ignore it. Tonight I’m failing.

The conversation switches to more personal matters.

"You're turning seventeen tomorrow, Dani."

I nod. "Yup, sure am."

"Excited?"

"Well, in the way of 'I'm happy I'm not dead', sure, but really it's just another day." Strapped to my thigh is the blade Ryodan gave me 'just because'. I run my index finger over the pearl handle. I like to reassure myself that it's still there.

"Eighteen is just around the corner," she confirms.

I feel like saying, 'yes, I do know how to count', but keep my sarcasm to myself. She's just trying to make conversation. Since she started working at Chester's, we don't find much to talk about anymore, unless it's Unseelie; the closeness we shared has plum died away. I blame Ryodan for that. "You could just walk up there yourself, ya know," I tell her. She flushes and shakes her head. "Well, why not?” I badger. “You guys have been together a while now," I work hard to not gag on the thought. "I'd say you've earned the right to drop by and say 'hi', where 'hi' equals a boink-fest." 

She blushes up like a blood smear. "I can't just drop in, Dani,” she insists, “It wouldn't be right. He's a busy man, and I’d be disturbing him."

"Bullshite, I drop in on him all the time. Seems only fair for you to, too," I say and bang back the rest of my shot. "Since you're..." I hesitate. "Since you’re both…” I wave my hands around, “well, you know what you’re doing.” Jo and I don't normally talk about this stuff. I’m inarticulate. Sue me.

The bartender puts another shot in front of me, and I grin a ‘thank you’ at him. He grins back, but it's a look that carries foreboding. I’ve got the constitution of an ox. I won't get drunk and I won’t be sick. Dude should have more faith in me. I'm about to chug-a-lug this one, too, when I see Jo sit up straighter and smile. I look in the direction of her gaze and see Ryodan walking to his usual spot, holding the railing with a force that would snap most bones.

He truly is a handsome man. Broad-shouldered, well-muscled, powerful. Gorgeous, eyes that see far too much, sexy mouth... Looking at him makes my chest ache, like I've got a bullet in my heart or something; I've no idea why. He can be such an asshole sometimes, but then I guess I can too. I nearly sigh but catch myself, my heart trying to fly out of my rib cage. I take a swallow of shot number four and continue to stare. 

Jo is practically squirming on her stool as she waits for Ryodan to notice her. I am never at Chester's this late, so when Ryodan and I lock gazes I don't think I imagine his surprise, made evident by a slight widening of his eyes for a millisecond, I know it's there. If I didn't know him so well, I'd have missed it.

Even if I hadn't seen him walk up, I'd have been aware he was there. I can feel him, like he touched my shoulder or brushed his fingers over my cheek. With great female appreciation, 'cause you know I'm almost a woman, I allow myself the pleasure of drinking him in. Without guarding my thoughts, my gaze travels lower to his shoulders. How many times have I been noodled over them? His broad chest, his arms, his hands with their long fingers, which have tipped my chin up more times than I can count. This time I don't stifle my sigh, like some foolish twit with her first crush or something, and just like that I become aware of myself, and with a start I look into his eyes again.

He's staring at me with an expression I can't read, so lacking in emotion I shiver. I decide to pretend I didn't just telegraph my yearning and wave up at him, a grin as wide as the River Liffy stretching across my face. I may be a touch more enthusiastic than normal. The frown he returns nearly melts my face off.

"Wha...?" I mouth.

"What are you drinking, kid," I hear him say clearly in my head. Oops.

"How do you know I'm drinking anything?" I ask wordlessly and take another sip. I'm smiling like an eejit, I know, but can't help it. "It's water. That's clear, too. What else would it be?" Normally, I love these conversations without conversing. They're fun. This one is walking a fine line, somewhere between attraction and punishment, those would both be mine.

I can nearly hear him sigh from here when he says, "I'll deal with you later," and starts to look away.

"Bring it!" I say with my eyes, challenging him as loud as if I'd screamed it across Chester's. "I got my big girl boy-shorts on, I can handle the likes of you." I point up at him, grinning. "Think just cause you've got a nice ass and a pretty face you can have everything your own way? I'm here to tell you, you can't." I barely stifle my giggle.

Wait? I don't giggle.

He stills and just looks at me. A small grin starts to curl his lips when I hear, "'Nice ass? Pretty face'?" He makes it a question. "Why, Dani, do you think I'm hot?" His grin grows larger and captivates me; I can't look away. Beautiful devil. He lowers his chin, gazing at me with that look in his eyes he's sent my way a time or two before. I still don’t understand it fully, but I’m getting the idea. I shiver and my heart starts slamming in my chest. "Don't leave the club," he tells me, the smile fading, "you won't like what happens if I have to go find you."

That threat alone would be incentive to skedaddle. 

He directs his attention to the other side of the club, overlooking Jo completely. A waitress from the tuxedo club - I think her name is Marilyn - saunters over to the archway leading into the hub and looks up at Ryodan. He nods, and she nods back. She turns and hands her tray to another one of the waitresses and walks up the stairs. Ryodan's already back in his office by the time I realize what's happened. I turn toward Jo. The look on her face breaks my fecking heart and fills me with a fury that I've not felt in a long time. Tears are flowing down her face, and her expression of hurt is palpable. I look over at Lor, and he shakes his head.

"Dick head!" I shout and get up. I throw back what's left of my fourth shot and make to leave. Jo grabs my arm and stops me from moving.

"There's nothing you can do, Dani, don't stick your nose in. It's none of your business anyway, so sit down." I look at her. She's wiping the wet from her face and sitting up taller. She tosses back her drink and swallows hard. "Everyone's surprised it lasted as long as it did." She moves to another seat so her back is to the staircase and we're facing each other. I call for two more and the bartender rushes over. I shoot shot number five, but Jo sips hers slower as we sit in silence. I grab her hand and hold on. She squeezes my fingers in reassurance, but pulls away. I'm not sure how long we sit together. A few minutes, an hour? I've no idea, but after a time she gives me a quizzical look.

"What?" I ask. "Want me to go up there and beat his face in? You say the word, and I'm there." I stand up. I'm so pissed I’m vibrating. Rage plus super strength times super speed are great equalizers against someone of Ryodan’s size and power. With all the training I've had, I could do some serious damage to him.

"Sit, I do not want you to go up there and beat his face in! He and I had no promises. I told you I was only making memories," she reminds me of our long ago argument when she and Ryodan first started bumping uglies. She pauses, then says, "It's funny though, you would be the only person who would get away with harassing him about me. He lets you get away with everything." I just look at her. In my opinion, I don't get away with nothing, but I'm not about to argue with her; she just got dumped after all, and without so much as a "feck off". I can tell she's thinking hard, 'cause she cocks her head, as she contemplates whatever it is that’s bogging down her brain.

"My God," she says, sounding like she's had a 'eureka!' moment, "I can't believe I didn't see this sooner." She begins ticking off on her fingers what she's listing out loud. "He dumps me on the eve of your 17th birthday. He always looks for you in the club first, before he picks out his next woman; this time was no exception. For the past few years, he's always found you in the crowd before he acknowledged me..." she trails off for a sec, thinking hard. 

"He puts you up at Chester's; feeds you excellent food; clothes you,” she takes a breath and continues, “he teaches you, protects you, heals your injuries. He is intolerant of any other men showing interest in you, even if they're still boys. And he spends almost every moment with you," she's murmuring now, like speaking is an afterthought to her louder internal musings. "He could just ignore you, and his existence would be so much easier. He could have killed you instead of hiring you and been done with it, but he didn't."

"What the hell, Jo..." I try to interrupt, but she ignores me.

"Look at all the trouble you gave him when I first started working here. He shows greater interest in you than I've ever seen him show in anything or anyone else. He forgives you everything." I look at her sharply and wonder just how much she knows about what he's forgiven me for. "He loves you, Dani. I can't believe I didn't see it before."

"What?" I burst. "No fecking way, Jo! You're drunk off your ass if you think he loves anyone, much less me. Only thing he cares about is himself. Look at how he just treated you!"

"And what's more, you love him, too." She shakes her head. "I must be daft not to have caught on earlier." A tear slides down her cheek, and she impatiently brushes it off her face. "Well, you're in for worlds of pain. Hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

"Are you fecking kidding me?” I shout at her. “If you think for one minute that I feel anything for that cold dude, you're smoking shit and you're not sharing! I may not despise him like I used to, but respect is a far cry from love. Seriously, should I give you a lift home? 'Cause obviously you're too smashed to drive." I'm pissed. Jo is way off if she thinks she's solved any mystery about Ryodan. She couldn't be more off if she was clotted cream that had been left out too long.

She smiles sadly. "You don't even know it yet, do you?" she shakes her head. "And he's just biding his time, until you're of age... or ready for him. Time will tell how that goes." Lor approaches us and interrupts what she was going to say next. Shit, he's really the last person I want to be around right now. Just like Ryodan, Lor sees everything, and to say I'm a little shaken by Jo's erroneous revelation would be a flipping understatement. Whether it's her scary delusions or the drink that's left me off kilter I'm not sure, but at this point, I'm just glad she stopped talking.

He hands Jo an envelope. "You don't have to stay, Jo. He thanks you for your service to the club, but your contract has been cancelled." Jo looks inside it and finds her contract in shreds. Lor actually looks kindly at her. "Want someone to bring you home?" I start to open my mouth to yell about what a fecking jerk-ass Ryodan is for treating her so shitty, when Lor pins me with a look, and I shut my mouth as soon as I open it.

"No, I can get home, thank you, Lor." Jo's speaking in a way I've never heard, and I realize she's trying to get away before she starts to cry. Been there a time or two myself, so I grab her arm and pull her from the bar. 

"Come on, Jo, I'll go with you." We link arms and start out the exit. If Ryodan holds true to form he'll be in his office for a while, and I really want to set her straight about her 'Ryodan/Dani' theory. I'm having a little trouble walking straight though, and start to wonder if I'm gonna make it up the stairs when out of nowhere Ryodan pulls me away from Jo. 

"She'll see you later, Jo," and drags me in the direction of his office.

"What the feck! Ryodan! Let go of my arm. I want to help her get home," I yell. 

"You are coming with me. We have things to discuss, and you are in no shape to help anyone," he reprimands and continues to drag me with him. We're almost to the staircase, that will lead back to his office, when I start to pull in earnest and he noodles me over his shoulder and keeps walking. Did I really only just admire the very shoulder I'm now tossed over?

"Put me down, you giant fecking jackass! You can't treat people this way..." Ryodan drops his arm from around my legs and I go sliding off his shoulder and down his back, only to have him spin round in fast-mo and grab me around the waist before I can hit the ground, flipping me back over his other shoulder. Between the vodka and aerial techniques, my head is spinning.

He spanks me once on the butt. "Behave," he scolds and starts up the stairs to his office. I'm so busy trying not to hurl that I shut up. I don't even look around, I'm too dizzy, but I can feel the stares of the stupid Fae who surround us just the same. I'll mark them all for death, if my head doesn't go flying off my neck.

It seems to take forever to get to his office. When we finally do, he sets me down in my chair, and sits on the edge of his desk in front of me, his knees braced on either side of mine. I'm staring daggers at him. I fecking swear if looks could kill, he'd be a bloody pile of goo by now.

"I hope you wash your desk, dude," I say, with all the disgust and disdain I can infuse into my words.

He ignores me and asks, "How much have you had to drink." No inflection, of course.

I sit up straight in my chair, leaning forward, aggressive and angry and... something else that I can't quite identify. "You know, boss," I say, sarcasm sprinkled liberally in my every word, "if you're not more careful, you could pick up some bacterial infection or some nasty virus, with all the rancid, slimy run-off that probably coats your desk with all the slut-bag, whore tossers you fuck, and your junk will rot off."

He bends down, our faces close and pins me with a mildly amused look. "You worried about my junk, Dani," he says softly.

I lean quickly away. "I'm trying to make sure you wash your damn desk once in a while. Since you're making me sit near it, I don't wanna end up with a case of creeping crud, or permanently sticky from all the noxious fluids your band of bitches spews from their lady parts. Since you just fired the only decent person you had working for you, I think you just shot your last safe load." I think for a sec. "Yesterday," I amend.

Ryodan stares at me. His expression is blank, like he can't figure out what to make of me. I'm not usually so eager to offer health tips.

"True dat," I say and stare up at him, then hiccup.

"How much have you had to drink," he repeats.

I sit back in my chair, throwing an arm over the back; nonchalance is me. "Why did you do it," I ask in the same manner.

"It's dangerous for you to be drinking in the club. Most of my patrons want you dead. If you wish to imbibe, you'll do it here in my office, with me, and nowhere else." As an afterthought he says, "And you'll do it in moderation. You're a lightweight."

"No, not that," I correct him, dismissing his assumption. "Don't care about that. Why did you dump Jo?"

"It was time," he answers, which surprises me, 'cause he usually ignores my questions. Anything personal and you can forget a straight answer, or even any answer at all most times. "Why are you so upset about it," he counters, "you never wanted us together in the first place. You did your utmost to warn me off her and when that didn't work, you ignored our morning trysts entirely. I thought this would make you happy."

"You thought my seeing Jo miserable would make me happy?" I stand to emphasize my point. We're a slim inch apart, so close I've got to crane my neck to maintain eye contact. I lose my balance and crash back down into my chair. "Whoa." I blink my eyes to help me focus on Ryodan's face which has gone blurry, and work to control the wave of nausea that assaults me. I swallow it back. After a beat, I say, "Besides, you didn't dump her for my sake. I don't understand you, dude. You threw her away like she was wadded-up toilet paper. You made her cry. You embarrassed her in front of the whole fecking club. Would it have killed you to have ended it kindly?"

"Oh, I see," Ryodan folds his arms across his chest, muscles flexing, pulling the material of his dress shirt tight across his biceps. I swallow and lose track of the conversation, staring at his body. "It's not the fact that I ended the relationship, but how I ended it." He relaxes his posture a bit. "You are glad it's over," he says. I lock eyes with him and realize I am pleased he's not going to be having sex with Jo any more. I could jump for fecking joy. She will be away from this place and all the degenerate patrons that slime around Chester's. But most importantly, she will be away from Ryodan. She can do so much better than him. Yup, jumping for joy is definitely on my list of stuff to do, as soon as the room stops spinning. 

I look around to make sure the walls aren't actually undulating around me, and swallow convulsively as they are clear glass and the view beyond is quavering. If I were of right and sober mind, I'd conclude that I could reach no conclusion. Speaking is becoming more difficult, and not slipping off the chair has become a new Olympic sport, for which I am determined to win the gold. I clutch the chair arms in my grip of death, and wrap my feet around the rungs to keep from sliding off.

"Gah! What the feckl is going on? You makin' the room sping?"

"Sping. What is a sping." He's got the slightest smile curling the corners of his mouth. I get caught up in staring, and suddenly I can't take enough air into my lungs. I part my lips to breathe through my mouth. "I was going to punish you for getting drunk," he informs me, "but I think you'll be punished soon enough. You've the spins, don't you?" Was that an actual question mark at the end of his query? 

"Spins?" My gaze slowly moves from his mouth, up to his eyes. "Have your eyes always been that colour? They look red." He smiles full on and his fangs are out. "Your fangs...," I say, faintly, "why are they so sexy? I never used to think they were before."

He crouches down and grabs the sides of my seat, a sliver away from touching my thighs. "You think my fangs are sexy," he growls. I slowly nod. I'm probably gonna wanna die when I sober up, if I even remember this conversation, but now I don't see any reason not to be honest. "...and my ass," he reminds me. I nod again. He drags one of his fangs against his bottom lip and I'm transfixed, staring at his mouth again. My lips go dry, and I wet them. He watches me as I slide my tongue across my lower lip. Then he glances up, and we lock gazes. His are full-on red. I've never seen them like this, or that expression in them. It's outright carnal, and makes my heart slam in my chest. 

To cover up my discomfort, I say, "You're very well put together for such an old guy." I almost snicker when his expression changes from sex god to disgruntled playboy. "You can't tell me you're not old cause you're like, what? A thousand, give or take a few centuries? You're a good looking dude, Ryodan. No need to get pissy."

Ryodan leans over, crowding me back into my chair, covering me in his shadow. He rests his cheek against mine and whispers in my ear, "Someday, Dani, I'm going to show you just exactly how 'very well put together' I am."

"Ha!" Shaky laugh, that. I pull away to look at his face, leaning back as far as chair will allow. "You think I'm gonna want that?" Gah, why do I sound so breathy.

"You already do." He leans in again and kisses my cheek, whispering, "Not that you'll remember... Happy birthday, Dani".

I forget to breathe for a sec, then I take a slow pull of air, trying to act like it's just another day at the office. So not the case, because I feel more light-headed now than when he was whipping me around in the club. Don't know how to reply, so I don't. Don't usually keep quiet when I'm at a loss either, but my brain's tripping all over itself trying to think of a comeback, and I'm drawing a solid blank.

He pulls away to look at me. I see the red drain from his eyes, and turn their normal, clear colour. His fangs recede and he looks his normal self. My heart is still hammering away, and though I'm grateful for a sound heartbeat, I would be happier if it'd slow its pace a bit.

"What?" He makes it a question.

I shake my head. Something's wrong. I'm... off, uncomfortable in my own skin. More than just being drunk, more than the kiss, even more than his nearness. I find being this close to him soothing and reassuring most days, even if my heart is rocketing out of my chest and my hands would be shaking if I didn't have a death grip on the chair arms. I want to grab onto him and hug him close, but that's wussy, so I keep holding the chair.

He sits back on his heels and reads me. I ain't covering anything up; I don't have it in me. My head's too full of haze and muddle to play defense. He's seeing it all. Maybe I want him to see it. Maybe I need him to. I've never known anyone who's as rock solid as Ryodan. Sociopath, quite possibly, but he takes excellent care of me, and I've grown to trust him, mostly.

I feel him rooting around in my mind, like little pushes of energy, moving my mental records this way and that, to suit him. He takes in my uncertain expression and levels me a reassuring look. He grabs both my hands in his and uncoils my fingers from around the arms of the chair, gently rubbing circulation back into my hands with his warmer ones.

"Say it, Dani," he commands.

I'm quiet for a second, confused about what he wants me to say, then, without conscious thought, blurt, "You threw her away like she was nothing, and now you'll forget her, like you do all the rest. What's to stop you from throwing me away?" Feck. Where did that come from and when did I start having abandonment issues? Discard me when he grows bored? But we're not like that. For so long I wanted him to forget me; to disappear off his radar. Now, I'm worrying that's exactly what'll happen.

 

He releases my hands and cups the sides of my face in his warm palms, his eyes pin me with a look that would melt me in my chair if I understood the full implications of it. "But she's not you, Dani," he assures. He leans forward to whisper against my ear. "You're mine."

 

Part 2 of When the World Spins Down will be up soon... promise

 

PSA -- The drinking in this chapter is fictional. Drinking alcohol, this fast/this much, is dangerous. Even Dani got drunk. :) Please drink responsibly and if you're underage, wait until you're 21 to drink. There will be plenty of time to over indulge when you're a crazy adult. XO


	2. When the World Spins Down Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani's memories continue to flood back to her, through blood and tears... though she'd never admit the tears. So concludes chapter four of our favorite super hero's life and times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read on, my friends. I hope you enjoy. Again, like always Karen Marie Moning created these wonderful character, not I. She owns them; I just take them shopping. Yeah, can you see Ryodan shopping? No, Ryodan, try these undies on... hehehe XO

I wake up, disoriented and lost. Where the feck am I? I look around. I'm lying in bed, Lor's engrossed in playing Soul Caliber and swearing under his breath. I sit up, brushing my hair back, and swing my legs off the side of the bed.

"Hi," I say and get up slowly, walking over to the couch. "How long was I out?" I'm disoriented and feel as though I've been down for days. 

Distracted, he tells me, “You’ve been sleeping for two hours. I put you to bed, you didn't look comfortable where you were, slumped in the corner of the couch."

"Thanks." I sit on the couch and pick up the controller. I put it down again. My concentration is shit; I really wish Ryodan were here.

"Did you dream more stuff back?" Lor asks.

"Yeah," I answer, thinking. I knew Ryodan had dumped Jo, but not the circumstances. It didn't even occur to me to even wonder about it. Did he really do it for me? Is that what I was supposed to get outta that memory? And his comment, 'You're mine." What was that supposed to mean? The contract I signed in blood makes me his, if you ask him about it. Exclusivity. He has mentioned that a time or two. But his? His what? Minion? I snicker. 

"How many memories did you get back?" Lor interrupts my pondering.

"Are we counting them then? Like Ryo knows he hid twelve memories in my subconscious, and when they're all revealed, I'll be able to go topside?" I tease, grinning. "Only one this time." I blush thinking about it in greater detail. I don’t usually get so close to Ryodan that I feel the warmth radiating from his body. What would it be like to have him wrapped around me? “Gah!” I yell, without meaning to and startle myself into a coughing fit.

"Must have been a juicy one," Lor says, his smirk firmly in place. Remembering personal, private details of your life when you're with a dude that reads people, like the grade school book we are to him, sucks even at the best of times. I give him a look that clearly reads, 'feck off'. He just grins back. 

"Hungry?" He asks.

"Fecking 'a I am," I say. "What's on the menu?" I look around for the food tray, but find it gone.

"You stay here. I'll go forage."

He's not gone thirty seconds when my nose starts to bleed again. I sigh, wipe it, and snuggle down in the couch again. This time, multiple memories skitter past, flying through my consciousness. I'm aware of the room, the TV; I am not drawn into sleep this time. I catch small bits: kindly gestures from all nine men; hugs from Mac; dinners with her parents. These memories make me glow inside, feel cherished, and appreciated. None of this has anything to do with Ryodan, so I'm a bit confused why they're coming up now.

I feel my eyes tearing up and wipe away blood. Shit! Where the feck is Ryodan? I really need him. I don't want to go through this alone. Lor is wonderful, he's my best bud, but he's not the one who steadies me when I'm on shaky ground. I make my way over to the bed, 'cause I just really need to lay down, and am hit with the same throbbing pain I had yesterday, spearing my temples and knocking me to the floor.

"I'm remembering, for feck sake!" I shout to nobody. I struggle to the bed and lay down. My head hurts, my body aches. I feel like I’ve come down with the worst case of flu ever, while someone slams me in the head with a baseball bat. This. Spell. Sucks!

Closing my eyes, I pay attention to my breathing, slow it down… in and out. In and out, slowly. Slowly. Memories trip over themselves in my mind, pushing their way to the front of my focus, until all I can see is Dancer. 

Upset. 

At me.

"Ryodan, what are we looking for?" I ask. I crouch in an alley not far from Temple Bar, bending over the remains of… someone. Body parts, fingers, part of an arm, a foot, and what can only be described as puddles of flesh are piled in small heaps across the pavement. The smell is horrendous, and I’m working my arse off trying not to puke. No way I’m showing weakness in front of the boss though, so I choke it back, breathing deeply. Standing, I ask, “Human? That looks like an ear to me.”

Ryodan glances over at me from his vantage point near the alley’s entrance. “Smells human,” he comments. 

“How many waitresses are we missing again?” I ask. 

I miss the amused look Ryodan gives me at my question. If I'd have time to think, I'd say he thought it was funny that I was claiming ownership of the waitresses. He knows how badly I fecking hate them. Debouched, low-life scum that they are. “We are missing three, all from the tuxedo club,” he walks to me, standing tall beside me and looks down at the remains. “Seems fresh.”

“Agreed,” I say. I stoop again, getting a closer look. “Blood hasn't congealed yet. Gah!" I jump back, startled. "Is that a nose?”

Ryodan gives me an indulgent smile. “The ear didn't unnerve you, but a nose does,” he asks without asking. I stand, dusting my hands off on my leather pants. 

“Disembodied noses are gross, Dude,” I answer. I carefully step around to the north facing wall. “Ryo, give me a hand up, would ya?” He steps close and gives me a boost with his laced fingers around my left foot. I grab the top of the wall and pull myself up, standing on the roof. I peer over the side and down at the gory alley. From here, I can see that the remains aren't just randomly strewn about, but carefully placed in a pattern. 

“Boss, check this out,” I say and point down at the gore. 

Ryodan springs up on the roof in one powerful jump. I slide over, giving him room to move around, and work at hiding my awe. I’m not going to say I've got hero-worship going on; I reserve that for Barrons alone, but I do admit Ryodan is pretty fecking cool. Like right now, we’re collecting evidence on what I believe could very well be a ritual killing, probably of one of Chester’s own people, and he’s dressed in a business suit, looking urbane and sophisticated. Such a contradiction, really. Piss him off and he’s Mr. Death walking. 

Well, except for me… I’ve done my fair share of enraging the man, and he hasn’t killed me yet. Don’t even try to stay on his good side, either, when I'm of the mind to be a pain. I guess I’m just built that way; contrary and obstinate. It’s part of my charm. Plus it's my way of keeping him on his toes. Wouldn’t want him to get fat and lazy now, would we? 

I snicker at my inner ramblings when I notice Ryodan cant his head to the side. He says nothing as he takes in the details of the slaughter below. He scents the air. I realize I’m holding my breath with anticipation as I wait for his reaction. Clues this big don’t slap you in the face every day. The five point star with a circle around is smeared with the viscera of someone I probably knew; the blood, bones and flesh spread out, helping to create the symbol. I’m about to open my mouth to ask him what he thinks when he turns to me, tossing me over his shoulder and jumps off the roof, landing a few feet away from the carnage. I'm too wrapped up in the mystery that is this scene to bitch at him for his high-handed manner of treating me. I'll file it away under "harangue him about it later". 

He puts me back on my feet as I say, “Pentacle.” I don’t know why, but I need to say it out loud. 

“Yes. What do you make of it.”

“No idea,” I say shaking my head. “You?”

 

“No. That’s why I have you,” he quirks his lips in a near smile. 

“Heh,” I scoff. “Witches?” 

“Anything is possible,” he tells me, and don’t I know it. 

“Ritual killing, I’m thinking. Sacrifice, maybe?” I stare at the bits of person strewn about and something catches my eye. "What's that?" I say more to myself than Ryodan and walk closer to one of the larger piles. 

"What is it." 

I reach out, wishing I was wearing gloves, and pull a long, bloody piece of cloth from the pile at my feet, doing my best not to disturb the integrity of the scene. It's soaked in blood, but looks like...

Ryodan approaches me and pulls the material from my hand. I look up and we lock eyes. We don't say what is obvious to both of us -- the tie is part of the apron worn by the tuxedo club's female wait-staff. The embroidery embossed around the scalloped edge is, pardon the pun, a dead give away. 

"Feck," I say. If I was worried before, the feeling grows ten-fold. 

Thoughts rush through my mind faster than I can verbalize, but I know he’s reading them all. I see him standing there, looking imposing and self-possessed, but he's not really registering to me. My retinal recollections run through everything I’ve seen these last few hours and everything I know about witchcraft, pentacles, Fae who use magic, castes who use flesh in their rituals, and the waitresses who are missing -- one of whom is most certainly dead. All of it mixes together, coated without exception in worry about Jo; she could be next. I know she doesn’t work in the tux club, but I can’t help being concerned. I don’t speak, and I don’t look away from his gaze. I formulate theories from our compiled data, none of which I believe to be valid, but postulate anyway. And close to the surface is fear that this time I'm not going be fast enough or smart enough to make it stop. 

I look away from Ryodan's thoughtful gaze. "Can you scent who it was?"

"No, the body is too compromised," he answers.

It would dawn on me later that we had begun to work really well together. Training with him, working for him, living near him, OK, with him, really... I'd become content, almost without even being aware it was happening. In the beginning, I was so busy fighting to stay free that I didn't realize how being kept safe isn't the same as being kept prisoner. 

Now my thoughts are fermenting in a sense of urgency I feel so strongly that I begin to bounce on the balls of my feet, my nerves burning through the reserves of my energy. Do I look as anxious as I feel? Probably. Ryodan hands me a Snickers with the wrapper opened. I take a huge bite with a muttered "thanks".

“You have such concern for people you can’t stand,” his voice is quiet and intimate. “Why.” 

“Holy bleeding hearts, Batman. Just ‘cause I can’t stand the fecks you hire at Chester’s doesn’t mean I want them to die,” I shove the rest of the candy bar into my mouth, swallowing after only a few chews, the need for energy outweighing the need to blow chunks. “We’re down too many humans as it is, Ryodan. I’ve got to save as many as I can… even the shitty ones.” 

Turning away from him, I walk the outer edge of the alley, searching through the detritus. Nothing stands out to me, but I take a sample for examination later anyway. I crouch down closer to the largest pile of remains and…

“Mega!” Dancer calls. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” 

“Dancer!” I shout in surprise, and fast-mo to him in a great leap. I throw my arms around him and hug him tight. He holds me fast and spins in a circle, my legs arcing out from the velocity of his swing. After a moment, he stops and puts me down. I step back and smile up at him. Everyone is taller than me. 

“How are you?” I ask, “I haven’t seen you in a long time.” I don't ask him where he's been because me and Dancer, we both lead our own lives. Living in each other's pockets is just not our style. 

Dancer grabs onto my shoulders and pulls me close to hug me again. I hear a distant growl, but it doesn’t filter through to my conscious brain. I wrap my arms around him again and say, “Uh, Dancer? Everything OK?” He squeezes me tight and then pulls away, dropping his arms and stepping back.

“I was just at Chester’s. All anyone can talk about are the missing waitresses. I was worried about you, so I came looking for you,” he says, his voice full of concern. He looks around the alley and grimaces. “What the hell, Mega?” He gestures to the remains of the body. “What is that?”

“Mutilated body. Ryo and I are thinking it’s one of our waitresses; not sure who yet,” I say. I turn to face the remains again. After a beat I tell him, “But you don’t have to worry ‘bout me, Dancer. Nothing's going to happen to me. Besides, I’m not part of the wait-staff. I’m enforcement.” I hear Ryodan make a guttural noise I can only describe as a combination of chuff and guffaw. I glance over and find him watching me with a mixture of amusement and aggravation. I stick my tongue out at him. He raises a brow at me. I snicker as I turn back to Dancer.

He's still tall, taller than ever. He's still adorable, too, and as smart and amazing as ever, but things are different between us. He's my dearest friend and probably always will be, but that zing I used to get in my gut is gone. Don't know what happened to it. One day it was just gone. 

“She hasn’t been dead very long,“ Dancer comments.

“Your grasp of the obvious is under-whelming as usual, Prancer,” Ryodan growls, interrupting. “Now fuck off, Dani and I have places to be.” 

Dancer answers him by grabbing my arm and pulling me away to the mouth of the alley. 

“Guess Ryodan is as much of a dickhead as ever,” he says. “I came to find you because it’s been weeks since we spent any time together. I was hoping we could watch a movie. I found 'I Spit on your Grave'”. He tries to entice me. I’m about to pull my arm away – I’m not too happy with being manhandled – but he drops my arm before I can.

“I would love to, Dancer. I know we've talked about watching that movie together forever, but I can’t, not today. Finding who's responsible for the disappearances and now this,” I gesture to the bloody remains, “is imperative. I can’t relax until we find the guilty party.” I glance over at Ryodan. He’s on the phone and glances over at me the same time I’m looking at him, like he knows I'm gawking or something. I look away fast.

Dancer follows my gaze to Ryodan and scowls. “You spend an awful lot of time with him, Dani,” he accuses, his voice hushed. At the time, I didn’t see this comment for the pitfall it would be; hindsight is 20/20.

“I kinda have to, Dancer. He’s my boss,” I say. I think he’s being foolish, but I keep that to myself. 

“You don’t just spend your work shift with him, Dani, and you know it. You’re always with him”. He grabs my arm again and pulls me further away from Ryodan. 

I wrench my arm out of his grip. “What is your problem, Dancer?”

“You’re with him every time I see you, you’re together practically twenty four/seven. You take your meals with him, you train with him, you live at Chester’s for fuck sake! Not to mention the ‘jobs’,” he makes air quotes with his index and middle fingers, “he must have your awesome brain power for…”

“You say,” I make my own air quotes, “’awesome brain power’ like you think I don’t have any.”

He ignores me. “You spend all your time with him. You love him or something?” 

I ignore his question, but feel warmth seep up my neck and flush my face, which fuels my aggravation. “I don’t owe you an explanation, Dancer.”

“You’re almost sixteen, Dani,” Dancer continues, ignoring my words. “You deserve to have fun. You deserve to have time off. You deserve a life.” 

I look into Dancer’s eyes and take a breath. He means well, I know he does. The fact that he’s my best friend goes a long way to chilling out my initial burst of temper, but I don’t like being pressured. I don’t like people nagging me. It always triggers ‘fight’ when 'flight’ is my only other option, and I’d chew my own foot off if I had to in order to get away. I take a deep breath and smile sadly. I used to run to him to be free and to feel safe. Things sure do change.

“I’m sorry I can’t see a movie with you tonight, Dancer. Maybe when this is over...” My voice trails away. I pull him down to kiss his cheek and turn away, walking back to Ryodan. I don't look at Ryodan ‘cause if I see him smirk or smile or grin, I’m going to belt him. I feel sick, but it’s not the smell of rotting flesh strewn all about that's churning up the feeling this time. I don't know why, but I’ve got an awful sense I’ve just seen Dancer for the last time. 

“That was Lor," Ryodan says hanging up his cell phone, jarring me from my thoughts. "He’s found another one.” I look up at him. His expression isn’t one of amusement or gloating. He’s stone-cold furious. 

“Where to?” I prepare to fast-mo. 

“Trinity,” he says and with no further delay we fast-mo across Dublin.

I wake with a start, sitting up and propping myself up on my pillows. I’d gotten used to racy Ryodan memories. This quiet, normal 'day in the life’ one threw me. What the hell did this one mean? What should I take away from it? Why would I forget telling Dancer I couldn't watch a movie with him? 

My feelings about never seeing him again didn’t even come true. We did see that movie together a few weeks after I caught and killed the fae responsible for the gruesome Chester deaths. Ryo had allowed me more freedom to spend with Dancer after that. It was a few weeks later that Dancer disappeared. 

I sigh and rub my hand over my face. I still missed my best friend, but my worry had plateaued. You could only fret about someone so much before you either let it eat you away or you contained it to a manageable level. I know I’ll see him again; any other thought is unbearable. 

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and get up, stretching. I’ve no idea how long I slept this time, but Lor still isn’t back. Odd, I didn’t think he would be gone so long. Is he killing a cow or something? Since there aren't any nearby, that would explain his continued absence. I snicker. Though lack of bovine sustenance was never something to laugh at, Ryodan always seemed to find a way to feed me better than I’d ever have before. This keeps me from worrying about my stomach, at least. 

I slow-mo it into the bathroom and jump in the shower. Lacking energy the way I am, I don’t rush. The hot water feels great and it helps relax me – not the way a rare T-bone would, but still good. By the time I climb out and get dressed, I feel loads better. It’s amazing how good washing dried blood from your skin feels. New lease on life! 

I pull on a black tank top with a white skull and crossbones on the front and black cargo pants. Walking out of the bathroom, I see Lor sitting on the couch waiting for me with a tray piled with food beside him. 

Fast-mo’ing over to him, I say ‘hi’ and start to eat, my hands a blur as I can’t seem to shovel the food in fast enough to suit me. When I’m done minutes later, I feel like my normal self. I stand and stretch again, my bones cracking as they shift. 

“That’s the most exercise I’ve gotten all day,” I comment, grabbing a strawberry from Lor’s plate and stuffing it into my mouth. 

“Hey!” he scolds. I grin as I steal another one and leap over the coach to evade his reach.

“You are feeling better,” he says with approval. My smile drops and I look away from him.

“What?” he asks, catching my downshift from jubilant to pensive.

“Nothing, really. I just don’t understand what the hell has been going on. Why did Ryodan stow my memories? I know, I know. I’ll ask him. I don’t expect you to answer me, Lor. It’s just been a tough few days.”

“I’m pretty sure it’ll all make sense in time,” he tells me, standing up and grabbing a roll. “The only objective of that spell was to keep some memories from you until you were ready to remember them. Ask the boss, Dani. I know he’ll answer you.”

“I want to go out,” I tell him. “I feel worlds better, and if I'm stuck here much longer, I’m going to go bug-fuck.” 

“How do you feel? Clear?”

“Yes, clear. Very clear. The clear-est,” I answer with a grin. “Crystal clear.” I pause. “Fecking clear.” 

“OK, OK,” he says, “I get the picture. Go out, just be careful and don’t go far. I’ve got stuff to see to anyway.”

“What’s her name?” I ask. 

“How’d you know I was seeing a woman?” Lor grins at me.

“I know you,” I tell him, over a mouth full of strawberry. “You glow when you’re about to get your wick waxed.” Lor swallows his bite of roll wrong and starts to choke. I whack him on the back until he’s able to swallow.

“You say shit like that just to make me blush, don’t you?” he reprimands. His cheeks are a little pink.

I stand in front of him, keeping a straight face when I say, “Of course not. I say that to all the guys.”

Lor grins, shaking his head, “Yeah, sure you do. Her name is Matilda.”

“Matilda doesn’t sounds like the name of a bimbo, Lor,” I tell him while I strap on my sword, and we head to the door. “You’re not after her for her mind, are you?” I’m starting to feel strange but I’m not about to bring it up now. I want out of this room in the worst way.

Lor just grins at me. He looks proud and it seems to be directed my way. Why he’d be proud of me I don’t know, but the thought flies from my head when he tells me, “I’ve seen what she can do with her mouth, Dani. That’s nearly as good.”

I laugh despite myself. “You’re gross, Lor.” I reach up and plant a kiss on his check. I’d hug him too, but I’m on the cusp of another memory, and I don’t want to have it in front of him. I turn and fast-mo down the corridor to the secret entrance as fast as I can push myself. I’m going to take Lor’s advice and find Ryodan. There’s only one place he’d be besides Chester’s. 

Barrons’ Books and Baubles.


End file.
